


New Spells, New Action

by SoftKing



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Accidental Cuddling, Barebacking, Caleb Widogast Needs a Hug, Caleb using his magic for the group with a little twist, Claiming Bites, Cuddling & Snuggling, Don't Kill Me, Drabble, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Fjord's True Accent, Insecure Caleb Widogast, M/M, Magic, Orc Culture, first one for the fandom, just a little, no longer a drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:13:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28073013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoftKing/pseuds/SoftKing
Summary: Short drabble. Caleb uses a new spell and gets an eyeful of what's to come. The only question is who's going to enjoy it more?
Relationships: Fjord/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 18
Kudos: 176





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have only gotten into critrole now, so late!! Wanted to get this out of my head. Respect to the fjordjesters tho, congrats! I'll be over here with my gay <3

Caleb felt a light burn in his thighs, knees pressed to his chest under the weight of Fjord’s body. As much shit as the group gave him for being weaker than Jester, he could still manhandle Caleb like a halfling. Their current position spoke volumes to the half-orc’s training, a hand under each of Caleb’s knees, holding the man’s entire weight easily in his palms.

A breathy moan escaped him as Fjord’s tusks pressed into his neck, the newly sharpened teeth threatening to puncture the skin. He had never been so glad for Jester’s influence in Fjord’s appearance, sharp white ends growing longer against green lips as time passed, causing tiny depressions in the soft flesh.

“How’s that feel, darling?” The words were mumbled into his skin, practically a sigh, the other holding himself as deep as possible for a few seconds, giving Caleb a moment to adjust. 

Fuck. He could practically feel Fjord’s cock in his throat, something he never even considered a possibility, the thickness stretching him so much that he thought he might tear. But Fjord was considerate like that, putting others' needs over his own, in and outside of their battles. He flinched when his back hit the cold inn wall, arching instinctively.

“Oh _scheiße_ ,” He swore as he rolled his hips, harsh pressure grinding against his prostate. A spike of heat shot up his spine as Fjord pinned the warlock against the wall, using it to fuck further inside, dragging Caleb down onto his cock with every thrust. 

  
  
  
  


An impact to his shoulder jolted Caleb back to the present, eyes meeting the inside of a fire lit tavern room, then focusing on the man in front of him. Fjord, with a concerned but amused look on his face, had taken a break from his pint to shake Caleb awake.

That’s right, another tavern stay to recover from whatever monster they killed for gold. Nott had stolen another scroll for him, brilliant girl, allowing the user to accurately see a moment into the future. So far, he could only get a minute in before one of the others would bring him back, saying his eyes were rolling back in his head, not dissimilar to when he would summon Frumpkin.

“Well how’d the peak inta the future look?” The grip left. “Promising?”

Caleb licked his lips reflexively, golden eyes flicking down his face at the movement, “ _Ja_ , very, very promising.”

“You gonna share with the group or what, asshole?” Beau called out, drawing eyes to their group and to Caleb. Shifting uncomfortably, he stuttered out an excuse of it being too short for a proper look, “Some practice tonight, some quiet, will help me to greatly improve.”

Jester took the opportunity to tease him, messing his hair up and stating that a bath would help even more. He swatted at her hands, the corner of his mouth quirking as he ducked away, wrapping his cloak around himself and slipping away when Beau announced a drinking competition.

Caleb slumped against the door as it closed behind him, panicked breath rattling in his chest as he brushed his hair back out of his eyes.

When… when would it happen? It was inevitable, no matter what, the visions played out perfectly, down to his mind's racing assumptions.

_Warm. Too warm._ Stripping off his outer layers and rolling the sleeves up on his tunic, he brought out the scroll. It was going to be a long night of purposeful studying.


	2. What Were You Dreaming About?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Traveling on the road provides unique sleeping situations as Fjord finds out. He also overhears a bit of revealing information.

It was truly incredible, the amount of destruction their party could deal and take. The only exception to injury being Caleb who, despite his incredible fire damage, was immensely vulnerable. Preferring to cast from a distance to make up for his lack of armor, the man would still manage to find himself in every precarious situation possible. Fjord swears their enemies were magnetized to the poor squishy man, his shock of red hair garnering attention and enemy preference for attack. 

Frankly, carving through a giant with his falchion and seeing it still charge past toward their (physically) weakest charge was pretty fuckin’ irritating. One could feel the air thicken as the Mighty Nein watched their wizard get cut down again, faces drawn in rage, hitting that much harder. The sooner the fight ended, the sooner the injured could rest.

With a roar, Yasha dug her hands into the flesh of her final opponent, muscles rippling as she tore its form down the middle and cast it aside, huffing. Seeing the danger passed, Caduceus and Jester began healing spells, brought back from the brink and sharing shaky smiles. Fjord scanned the area, spying Caleb’s unmoving form leaned up against one of the walls and making his way over, bodies composed mostly of ash clinging to his boots. He crouched down and ruffled dirty ginger hair, hand coming away tacky with blood. Caleb looked up and smiled shakily, a nervous laugh escaping his bruised lips as their eyes met.

“You alright there, Caleb? Took quite a beatin’ from these bastards.”

“Oh,” Caleb sighed, leaning heavier against the wall. “Well, you know, it’s only my bones. Nothing bad or out of the ordinary for me, I suppose.”

Fjord snorted, rising up and holding his hand out for the other to take. Caleb sighed again, grasping him by the forearm and allowing himself to be pulled up onto unsteady feet, Fjord catching him by his shoulders when he swayed. A light pink showed on Caleb's face, though it could have been smeared blood, Fjord ignoring it in favor of wrapping an arm around the wizard's torso and holding him up easily.   


“Easy there,” The remainder of the group joined them, Beau patting the wizard’s side hard enough for him to wince, Nott and Jester digging through the already decomposing bodies, eventually making their way back to the local tavern. 

Coin distributed, food and drink ordered, the group stole away into a corner booth, shading them from prying eyes. Even still they were tucked into each other, Yasha having left of her own accord yet again. She seemed to be disappearing more and more often, a cloudiness taking over her features before she left with the rolling thunder that followed. 

Fjord hummed as he drained his tankard, half listening to an insane discussion between the girls of how exactly they could get away with killing a person in high power without being caught, including impersonations, bribery, and a million assurances to Caduceus that yes, the person would be awful. Caleb was nursing his third drink already, lack of space forcing him into Fjord’s, bumping elbows and shoulders, legs pressed together from knee to hip. Taking a longer glance let him see the remaining damage that their cleric’s didn’t have the energy to heal. 

Blood cleaned from his hair, a slight bruise lingered under his eye, likely more matching under layers of clothing. Fjord glanced away just as warm brown eyes turned his way, aware of the lingering gaze on both ends, pretending to be enthralled by Nott’s wild gestures and fanatical insistence that Caleb could help them turn a guard into a chicken without it being ‘unethical’.

Another hour passes before patronage dwindles enough for them to leave under the scornful eye of the barkeep, entering their various rooms, bidding each other a good night. Already stripped from his armor and focusing on his falchion, Fjord was surprised to see Caleb enter later than usual, skin damp and flushed, pearls of water collecting at the ends of his hair. His clothes were collected in a bundle at his side, still dressed in his pants, lean chest exposed.

_Shit._ Tearing his eyes away, Fjord refocused on his blade, nearly losing his progress. In the back of his mind, he tracked Caleb as he laid his clothes out next to the fire, taking a moment to bask in its warmth before collapsing face first onto his bed. Returning his sword to its realm, Fjord looks up as the bed creaks. Caleb’s thinness was even more apparent without his layering, years of scraping by apparent with the noticeable poke of rib and hip bone from skin, lean muscle through thin patches of skin. An aching _want_ to protect overcame him, his chest full almost to bursting as it crawled up his throat, the silence deafening him.

“Caleb.”

“Hm?” A blue eye cracked open to meet him.

“You did good today, finished off a good few of them.” He leaned forward, shortening the foot distance between them, pushing as much sincerity into his voice as he could. “I mean it. You’re a real force to be working with, partner.”

Eyes slipping closed again, Caleb grimaced, “I am not so sure about that, but whatever you say, Fjord… it seems I end up injured more often than not these days.”

“I know, I know, but I just wanted you to know that we appreciate you.” A frown crossed his features as Caleb hummed noncommittally and shifted on top of the blanket, reluctant to move much more. Self deprecation being a casual response to any compliment given, typical Caleb, underestimating himself.

* * *

  
  


Another battle came and went, ending with Caleb and Beau both near death, the two leaning on each other while their cart bounced along the empty road. Fjord sat at the helm with Jester, the other pointing out the different rock shapes and sketching their previous adventure for the Traveler, having a lovely one sided conversation with Fjord. The half-orc was consumed by his own mind, flashes of their companions falling to the ground had his jaw clenching, lengthening tusks pressing into his upper lip. He needed to be stronger.  


“Mr. Fjord.” Startled out of his thoughts as Caduceus’s hand landed on his shoulder, he turned to see a soft smile across the firbolg’s face. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Fjord shook his head, quirking the corner of his mouth. “There’s a shack a little further north that we should stop at, we need our rest, some more than others.”

“No idea how you can see that far but- uh, yeah, we can hunker down for the night.” 

It was barely a shack, enough to fit most of their party but not all, close to the size of Fjord’s cabin at sea. More of a closet, battered walls absent of holes, stacked with spare blankets and small trinkets. Himself, Caduceus and Caleb took a mass of blankets, padding the base of the cart while the others do the same to the interior of the hut, which becomes quite comfortable looking with Jester’s aid. 

A kettle over simmering fire, tea is soon passed around and Fjord cups his hands around the small mug, sapping heat from it rather than drinking. The girls were happy to huddle around Yasha, discussing sleeping arrangements, Caleb insisting that Nott join them despite her hesitance to leave him outside.

“I need to set up my thread before we rest anyways.” He had paused, gotten down to her level and spoken more softly. “It would bring me great comfort. It is my turn to protect you for once, okay?”

“Okay… I trust you, Caleb.” She had said, ducking her head closer to his for a moment, bumping him as they shared a smile.

Beau and Caleb had volunteered for first watch, still injured but some of the sharpest eyes in their group, shoulders again pressed together for support. Everyone started preparing for much needed sleep, weapons within range, leftover tea discarded as the fire burned bright.

Fjord took his time, watching his friends pad around and finding their places. The low camp light illuminated Yasha’s form curled around Jester, a hand rested a few inches from Nott, who was similarly wrapped up in blankets. Caduceus sat with his back to the side of the interior of the cart, feet reaching the other end with ease, eyes slipping closed but wandering still. His lips moved silently, talking with the surrounding nature Fjord imagined, another line of defense.  


The half orc himself rested on his side on the slight padding of the cart, back against the frontal bench, more pretending to be asleep than anything. A night without interruptions, without looming patrons or misguided thieves was a fuckin' dream, his body still working off bits of adrenaline.

He could hear the mutterings of the pair watching over them, absently focusing in on the trailing words as his mind drifted, the only real noise aside from crackling flame and crickets.

"I- uh, I simply do not know, Beauregard." Caleb's voice was hesitant, the volume changing as he checked over his shoulder to see their surroundings, making sure he and Beau were the only woken ones in their party. "Every time I have looked to the future, the event occurs without fail."

Wood creaked as Beau shifted closer to Caleb. "You say these things are accurate, right?"

"Down to the thoughts in my head. I would not forget."

"Right, right."

A pause stretched between them. Beau was thinking, Caleb did that to her, made her more careful of what she said and did, his perfect memory capable of retaining any words slung in the heat of the moment. Instinct ruled her life, her every decision, taking a backburner when talking with their Zemnian friend. Fjord had seen her soften for him, whether she realized it or not.  


"I think you should prepare as best you can for whatever happens. You still won't tell me what happens, will you?" A reluctant noise. "Yeah, didn't think so. Look, man, just prepare for the worst and let us know if it'll kill ya- or us."

"Ja, of course, of course."

Another hour passed before the monk broke the ambiance. "Why you been avoiding Fjord so much? He got something to do with it?"

"Beauregard, please. No. And I haven't, haven't been avoiding him."

Her next words came harsh and hushed. "First of all, don't tell me what I see, asshole. Second of all, _yes you are_. For fucks sake Caleb, you were on the brink of death and refused his healing potion, this is the first time I've seen you within 5 feet of him willingly, even Yasha asked me about it."

Caleb sighed, not his usual annoyed and put off, this was heavier, sadder somehow. "I've been obvious, ja?"

An affirmative hum. Fjord should really let himself fall asleep. He was losing valuable time and would be garbage in the morning unless he did.

"It does… have to do with Fjord. The vision."

"Does he… does he die?" His body tensed, holding his breath for an answer not meant for his ears.

"No, no, nothing like that. It was… something of a personal measure, I would not want to share without his permission, but I also do not feel that bringing it up to him would be _beneficial_." The last word was almost hissed and Fjord let his body relax, no death. This time.

"Was it, you know-" A few creaking noises, followed by a pregnant pause then Beau's reserved tone creeping up in pitch. "Oh my fucking god it _is_! Really? You and Fjord?"

Caleb sighed again, "You musn't tell anyone. It feels… wrong- like taking away someone's choice before the offer is even made."

"This is really bugging you, huh? Alright, I'll uh- we'll keep this between us. I can keep secrets when I need to." Ambient noise filled the air again.

"So who was giving it to who?"

"If you say anything more on the subject, I will kill you."

Beau snorted and left it at that. Nature's conversation overtook the quiet, giving a background to Fjord's thoughts, who was finally drifting off, not just lying on his side and hoping the rest would be enough. 

_Interesting_.

He roused a bit when their shift changed, Caduceus taking the helm for them and joined by Yasha, whispering to Beau that Jester was waiting for a big spoon. Fjord cracked his eye open enough to peer through his eyelashes, waiting for the wizard's form to join him in the cart. Sure enough, Caleb clambered in with a surprising quiet, sparing a mere glance in his direction. Piling up the blankets Caduceus left behind, he made a makeshift nest, tucking himself under, just out of arms reach of Fjord. Well, out of Caleb's arm reach, the half orc was certain he could brush his fingers over the other if he tried.

But for now, he left it alone.

As usual, he woke before most, used to turbulent nights on sea. It was warmer now, warmer than when he fell asleep too, covering his torso. Not much of a morning person, he stubbornly leaves his eyes closed and enjoys himself. He hadn't had a warm body in his bed longer than he could remember and _damn_ , it soothed an ache in his chest. A hunger fed.

Enough time passes that he begrudgingly opens his eyes with a sigh, hair tickling his nose, mornings start with or without him so might as well be ready. His vision is half obscured by red and orange, rays of light barely peeking over the horizon, highlighting the hair he has his face buried in.

Red hair?

Fjord's eyes widen as he takes in the predicament he's in. He had only shuffled a few inches closer, but had dragged Caleb and his batch of blankets into his arms. Firmly tucked into his chest, Caleb's head was pillowed on his arm, Fjord's other arm around his waist, fingers clenched in his shirt. Fjord had curled in, head ducking into red hair and a thigh pushed between slimmer legs.

He was royally and truly fucked.

The weight in his arms shifted, soft sleepy noises escaping as Caleb settled back closer to him, as though he was trying to meld himself to Fjord’s leather. Holding his breath, he carefully unwound himself from the mess of limbs and layers, standing where he previously laid. He hefted his weight over the edge of the cart, landing soundly on the other side and coming face to face with Beau.

“Sup?” She gave him a nod, eyes narrowed. “What was going on up there?”

“Oh- nothing, just uh- sleepin’, y’ know…” He cringed at his own floundering, straightening his spine as Beau cornered him against the wood, feeling small despite the good half foot of height he had on her. A slight commotion came from the shack, Beau immediately turning to see Jester and Nott emerge, ditching Fjord with an “watching you” gesture before joining in on packing up camp. Relieved, he gathered up some supplies from the shack, jumping when Caleb's head poked up from the cart. 

“ _Was-was ist los_?” His eyes were squinted as he peered around, hair mussed and bright in the rising sun. Fjord looked away as their eyes met, stamping out the smoldering flames as Jester ran over and shook Caleb totally awake.

Fully packed and on the road again, they continued north, cart bouncing along as they kept watchful eyes passing around.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fjord finally confronts their wizard on his previous actions. What will he do when he finds out the truth?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized is a thought and bold is Fjord's patron, Uk'otoa, calling to him.

Anytime Fjord and Caleb end up sharing a room, he is left feeling more exhausted than when they arrived. Entirely too focused on Fjord’s soft breaths in the deathly silence of their shared room, facing the wall in his bed with his eyes squeezed shut or reading carefully through his book until one of the girls hammers on the door, announcing breakfast. It was starting to affect his spellcasting, only enough for him to notice, the others blissfully unaware of his inner turmoil.

The group drifted through another town, taking up small tasks for the surrounding folk and making what coin they can, settling in a surprisingly nice tavern to recover. As the night goes on, Yasha and Beau trail hushed giggles and whispers to their room, leaving their shared drinks behind. Caleb allows a small smile under the rim of his mug with his attention on Jester and Nott, the two playing (and cheating) in a card game against two stuffy upper class men. A card makes its way out of Notts hand, slotting into the deck once more, only Jester and himself watching carefully enough to catch it. Feeling the weight of eyes on his profile, he glances to the side and catches Fjord’s figure as it saunters close to his table, then abruptly turns before his hip could meet the edge of it. Caleb’s eyes track leather armor as the half orc plants a hand on Jester and Nott’s table, his weight shifting down to whisper something to their Cleric, who slapped her cards down with a wide grin, a winning hand displayed. He could see Nott’s smile in her eyes, as hidden as her face was by porcelain. 

He jumped in his seat as she scooped her winnings up and rushed over to him, eyes alight with mischief and success.

“Caleb? Jester wants to have a slumber party, just us girls,” She begins hesitantly. “Are you going to be okay tonight?”

The unasked question, _Do you need me?_ , lingered between carefully strung words, wary of the company around them. He could ask her to stay. Maybe take the night to explain that he was afraid of prophecies, afraid of what his vision entailed, but…

She needn't worry for him. She had been a force of nature in their fights and deserved time away from him, his constant anxiety and damping spirit. Instead he ruffled the small bit of hair she had exposed and chuckled when she squawked, playfully swatting at his arm.

“Go ahead, I’ll be just fine.” She squinted at him for a moment, then nodded, satisfied with what she found. Jester smiled as Nott ran back to her and took the offered hand, their chattering fading as they ascended the stairs. 

A strange tension settled in the base of stomach as he drank, as it usually did when he and Nott were separated. Being together for so long had built a bit of codependency that now extended to the rest of the group, his anxiety spiking when he lost sight of them, even if they were in the same building. To quell a bit of his anxiety, he would string a silver line in front of all their rooms, content that he could at least protect them from being snuck up on.

Fjord’s presence at the bar should have soothed those qualms. But as he peered over his glass at the half orc, his mind brought forth the vision he was granted only a week ago, his perfect memory betraying him. Phantom touches to his chest, heavy panting into the crook of his neck, a gratifying pressure between his legs.

Senses reassulted, Caleb looked away, anywhere else, reciting Nexin’s Theory of Reality in his mind and shifting in his chair. The harder he focused, the more overwhelming the memories became, instinctively pressing his legs together to relieve a bit of pressure. 

_Scheiße._ He was in public, he needed to calm down and get up to… his room… that he was sharing with Fjord. 

It would be fine. It had to be fine.    
  


Shoving himself away from the table, he hustled up the stairs, keeping his coat and cloak close to his body. The door opened easily enough, though his hands shook as the key fitted in. He busied himself with stringing up his line, confident in its ability to wake him if danger approached. As he tied off the last bit, he let his shoulders drop, weary from the day’s work.

The door closed behind him and he immediately pulled one of his newer books out of its holster, thumbing through the pages until he found his placeholder, settling on his bed to attempt to expand his spell knowledge.

So absorbed in his reading, a presence at his door only registered once the silver line tugged at his mind, warning him that someone had crossed the threshold. Reluctant to remove the shield his book served as, he peeked over the edge to spot black hair with a shock of white, quickly replacing the barrier. He kept his eyes locked on the same string of words as footsteps approached and stopped at his feet, green fingers curling over the top edge and pushing down slowly, revealing a familiar scarred face, furrowed in irritation.

Fjord.

He’d be lying if he said there was nothing between him and Fjord. It would be dismissing their fluidity in battle, sharp quips sent along with spells, how the half orc would bend his leadership when Caleb 'deferred to the group’, whispered secrets over campfires, watching over their friends. But what he had seen… it was much more than that.

He could only hope that Fjord hadn’t noticed how he’d been shying away from spending time alone with him, regardless of how awkward things became. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Oh, Fjord had fucking noticed. He wasn’t as dense as he played, even to the Mighty Nein. Maybe a bit purposefully obtuse, playing into the idiot sailor role to get the jump on someone, but he could tell when he was being misled. Caleb was a worse liar than Nott, all stutters and red tinged ears when confronted, never really met eyes anyways. So, yeah, he noticed when they would split up and Caleb would run to Beau’s side or hightail it with Nott on his heels, looking for a library, even if Fjord’s destination was _next to_ the library and he would be Fjord’s shadow in combat. Noticed how the man tensed up for a millisecond with casual contact, a hand to the shoulder, standing within a foot, even calling his name caused thin shoulders to hunch.

He had an inkling, but he wanted Caleb to admit it. Have him tell the truth instead of skirting around it. Asking Jester if she’d be willing to host a girls night might have been a mistake, the request brought a twinkle of suspicion to her eye, excited and mischievous in nature.

“Is it about Caayyyyleb?” She drew the “a” out and wiggled her eyebrows at him, giggling loudly when Fjord nodded. She tossed her cards on the tabletop, “I win!”

Her competitors balked, grabbing her cards to check for cheating and grumbling when they found none, much to Fjord’s delight. Jester’s childlike demeanor allowed her to swindle many and with Nott’s guidance, she excelled. He wasn’t sure how their wizard felt about it, but it warmed his heart to see the two grow closer. Both had been isolated from like minded folk for so long, Jester locked away in her home and Nott only had Caleb in life or death situations. It reminded him of new crewmates getting their sea legs, stumbling around like fawns until the sea was all they knew, reformed by the waves like a stone in a rushing riverbed. Forever different but still malleable over time.

Using the mirror on the wall of the tavern to keep an eye on Caleb, he let himself drift in thought, spotting a light flush overtake the wizards cheekbones as he wrapped his arms around himself, damn near knocking into empty tables to get upstairs. 

_Interesting._

**Follow.** A familiar sensation buzzed at the base of his skull, body already moving toward the stairs without his influence, drink abandoned at the bar. His patron hadn’t failed him yet, might as well see what it wanted. He ascended the steps easily, keeping an easy distance and footsteps light.

Caleb was easy to absorb in magic, as evidenced by the fact he didn’t realize Fjord was around the corner while he was stringing up his silver string, closing the door behind him without checking the halls. Fjord really needed to give him a lesson in checking his surroundings. 

No time like the present he supposed.

Shadowing the man’s movements, he slipped through the cracked door before it closed behind Caleb, who already had his nose buried in a book. As silently as possible, Fjord began slowly removing his armor, setting it down on the edge of his bed while keeping his eyes on the other man. Then in just his cloth, he stepped back toward the door, passing a hand over the silver thread.

Caleb’s shoulders hunched as he did, the book pulled closer to his face in an attempt to hide. Striding closer, Fjord rested his hand on the top half of the book and pushed down until he could see the other’s face. 

“Uh, hallo…” Voice just above a whisper, Caleb closed his book and set it to the side, confusion clear in his eyes. “Can I help you with something?”

“Yeah, ya can,” Fjord rose back to his full height, crossing his arms against his chest and looking down, the wizard shrinking further back. “Help me understand something. You,” He uncrosses his arms to gesture at Caleb. “Saw something in your vision. About me.”

“I-I don’t know-” Fjord held up a hand, silencing the stammering.

“I want to know why you’re hiding this from me. From the group, I could understand, but Beau knows. So I want to know-” He places a hand on Caleb’s shoulder and takes a seat next to him, keeping their eyes locked, blue to gold. “-what you saw.”

Caleb let out a shaky sigh and drew further into himself, “Yes, well, there is a reason that I did not share with you. It was of us…”

“Yeah?”

“In an… intimate nature.” Caleb turned his eyes away, suddenly focused on the grain of wood. “Under a minute but it certainly gave me an eyeful.”

_Oh._

“Oh,” Fjord similarly turned away, cheeks blazing a dark green as he recalled Beau’s words a few nights past. _Who was giving it to who?_

Out of the corner of his eye, Caleb frowns. “I- I do not want to ruin The Mighty Nein because I made a stupid mistake. Nott is happy here, I think, and I am always glad to help her be happy.” His eyes glanced down at where Fjord’s hand had crept next to his. “Regardless of what I saw, nothing _has_ to happen.”

“Has it ever been wrong? Your visions, I mean.” 

Caleb pauses, counting on his fingers, “No. But no one else has ever known about them either.”

Fjord absently rubbed his chin, the harsh stubble scratching against his palm, “Y’think that it could be fulfilled on purpose?”

Caleb’s eyes studied his profile carefully, “I don’t follow.”

“Hear me out,” Fjord’s hands found the other’s shoulders, holding them parallel to each other and forcing Caleb to look him in the eyes. “If we make that vision come true now, we won’t have to worry about it in the future.”

“There is absolutely no guarantee that that will work.” He took a loose grip on Fjord’s wrists, not moving them away. “Or that it will be exact enough for it to count.”

“Just- walk me through it. Tell me what happens exactly.” He tried to make his tone as casual and careful as he could, but even he would hear the growing pitch and occasional crack in his voice. Tightening his grip against Caleb’s body curling in on itself, cupping a hand under his jaw and lifting his head gently. “Hey, it’s gonna be alright, no matter what happens, this stays between us. I promise.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Relax… Breath, Cay. Breathe with me.” Caleb took a shaky breath in, releasing slowly, as close to the half orcs as he could manage. As the air left him, Fjord lowered him against the wall, the pressure forcing his walls open in a burning stretch. There was a distinct lack of pain, a truly excessive amount of oil and time spent on Fjord’s part to make sure of that, leaving Caleb with a heavenly ache. His vision had given him an idea of how much he’d have to adjust for the thick length belonging to their resident southern half orc, almost more than he could handle. An aspect his vision had neglected to star were the ridges that lined the length, as well as small spikes, causing a unique throb to run up his spine.

“Alright?”

“Ja, I’m-I’m good, ja.” Caleb sighed, hands clutching at Fjord’s shoulders as he continued his venture into the depths of Caleb.

Fjord’s still growing tusks pressed to the side of his neck, the phantom of a memory striking him at the sensation, “Almost there?” His voice was unbearably soft, accent thickening by the second and hushed in Caleb’s ear.

“Keep your teeth there, I remember that- _fuck_ \- you need to hold me under my uh, legs.” He keened loudly as Fjord’s hips finally met his ass, his weight shifting as a familiar feeling of being stretched thin rose in his stomach, “Ja, this is it, this is how it was. Keep going, please-”

Caleb’s hips rolled instinctively, pleasure spiking low in his gut, “ _Scheiße_.” It was perfect, almost exactly as predicted, nearly there.

Tangling his fingers in Fjord’s hair, he tugged his head in closer, “Bite me, you bit me.”

A growl resounded through his neck, reverberating up into his head and down his spine, shaking the core of his being, any thoughts in his head vanishing. He’d never heard an orc, much less a half-orc growl before, but this was undeniably possessive. “Fjord?” The name dissipated into a hapless moan as Fjord’s hips pounded into his own, the beginning of a relentless crusade of pleasure, weakly protesting as he whimpered.

Fjord mouthed at the joint between his neck and shoulder without pause, a continuous growl vibrating through his chest to Caleb’s, “A _bite_ from an orc is a claim, Cay. It means I’d be marking ya as mine, a warning for anyone else to not touch ya and it’d last, last longer than the scar stayed on ya.”

Caleb thought back to any of his studies on orcish culture, vaguely recalling a bond between two with claiming marks as Fjord’s tusks pricked into his skin, barely scratching the surface.

“Is that what you want, Cay? You wanna wear my mark on your neck?” Fjord’s voice reverberated through him, shivers running down his spine, joining the heat that pooled in his stomach. “All you have to do is say yes, Caleb. I won’t force you.”

Caleb’s hands scrabbled, dragging bright lines into green shoulders. Groaning at the harsh drag of pressure, Fjord resisted the compulsion that drove him to sink his teeth into Caleb’s neck.

Then he realized Caleb was shaking.

“Okay, hang on doll,” Wrapping both arms around him, Fjord lifted his weight up and carried them to the nearest bed, settling down with Caleb cradled in his lap. He leant his head against soft red hair, taking in the smell of sweat and musk as his eyes tracked the flickering flame. 

*Claim*. The voice in the back of his head returned, pressuring for action in Caleb’s moment of vulnerability. Fjord’s jaw clenched, teeth clacking together as the craving to drive his mark into Caleb’s neck, lock them together in spirit and form, nearly overwhelmed him.

But he resisted. The buzzing at the base of his skull became damn near unbearable, lighting his nerves on fire as he ground his teeth, instead deeply inhaling Caleb’s scent, smoke tinged and lingering in his lungs.

Caleb eventually calmed, taking a deep breath against Fjord’s arms, “I don’t want you to regret this. When-” He hears Caleb’s dry swallow. “When we lost you, Jester, and Yasha, I was lost. I know we joke about me being the leader of our group but we -Nott and I- defer to the group, I tried to help as much as I could, but it never seemed like enough. We-” Another shuddering gasp ran through their chests, “When we lost Molly, I, I didn’t know what to do.”

Blue eyes rose to meet his, if only for a moment, “I can’t handle losing you. It’s a lot to ask, but I do not want this to happen because of a future I saw.”

Fjord grips Caleb by the jaw and forces him to look him in the eyes, gold piercing blue, “Do you think I’m only doing this because ya saw it?” He tilts his head, sighing sadly when Caleb looks away. “I’m doing this because I care about you, Caleb. I wouldn’t be doing this with just anyone, you have to know that.” Another pause. “I want to claim you, Caleb. I’m not doing this out of pity or obligation. This,” He gestures between the two of them in the limited space, “means an awful lot to me. We took a blood oath for fucks sake.” He huffed as Caleb’s eyes evaded his own.

“You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough. Cay, I don’t care what you’ve done, what you feel you gotta keep secret from me. I _know_ you’re a good person. You’re always there t’ bail me outta trouble when we’re fighting and it’s not by chance that I’m looking after you too. You saved us all from Avantika’s crew. Honestly, you’ve saved us more times than I can remember!” He holds Caleb tighter, willing the meaning to penetrate through Caleb’s mind, begging anything that will listen to let the other know it’s the truth.

“I don’t want you to regret this.”

“I won’t. I prom-” He halts himself as Caleb’s form sags in his grip, hands rubbing soothing circles onto the scarred skin, “I swear I want this, I do.” He takes a moment to study the others face and doubles down, “What can I do to make you believe me?”

Caleb’s face screwed up as he thought, “Ask me with your real voice. I’ve heard it before, I just- I need to know this is really you asking.”

Fjord let out a deep sigh, ducking his head down until his forehead was against Caleb’s, breathing the same air, hot puffs ghosting against his lips.

“Please, Caleb.” Any hint of his false accent was gone, leaving only the voice he had trouble remembering at times of distress, posh and proper in its cadence. “Let me?”

Caleb’s chest brushed against his as he let out a shaky chuckle, “Yeah… Ja, bitte.”

Planting his feet against the ground, Fjord pushed up with his hips, knocking a grunt out of Caleb, resuming his previous pace. While the atmosphere had become calmer, his erection did not flag, piercing into Caleb’s soft heat and building pleasure in his gut once again.

When Caleb’s breath began to flag, he spat into his hand and wrapped it around Caleb’s length, stroking in time with his thrusts. Caleb swore, Fjord’s grip bruising handprints onto his hip bones. As heat pooled in the base of his stomach and he could feel himself grow close, Fjord sank his teeth into the pale length of skin before his eyes. It parted beautifully below his tusks, blood leaking into his mouth as Caleb tightened around him, stuttering moans escaping him as he came on Fjord’s hand, painting his hand and stomach white. 

Groaning around the flesh in his mouth, Fjord’s thrusts faltered, digging his teeth a bit deeper as he filled Caleb to the brim, warmth spreading around his cock.

Hot breath puffed out onto Caleb’s neck as the two panted, Fjord unlatching his teeth and swiping his tongue over the wound before pulling back. Beads of blood dripped out of the sides of the punctures, welling up after his mouth and tongue left.

**Good.** Warmth sang through Fjord’s skull, the voice and contently murmuring into Caleb’s skin as it droned over his thoughts. As his thoughts slowly became his own again, he continued pressing light kisses over pale skin and collapsed onto his back. Caleb huffed as he fell onto Fjord’s chest, shifting until he was comfortable, head between green pecs, legs entangled, one hand grabbing for Fjords and the other clutched to his necklace.

“Comfy?” Fjord muttered as he was elbowed in the side, false accent returning as he spoke.

“Mhm, not as uncomfortable as I imagined,” Fjord carded his finger through red hair, smiling as a tacky crimson smeared on his chest. “What are you going to tell the others?”

Fjord froze. He hadn’t thought about that, he was more a man of action, do first and plan later. His hand resumed its pace, “They don’ need to know the details, if any of ‘em ask.”

They didn’t need to explain. They all had their secrets.

  
  
  
  
  


What was one more?


End file.
